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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Wednesday 4 July 2018

Sparkle My Dear Sparkle


   Spiral winds lift and drop me this unusual warm morning, sending frothy whirlwinds all around my  edgy corners as I hold on to my silk thread that takes me where I will moult. Graze against time, I eat like I'm been rewarded with extra life lines that bring with it laughter. Frozen on this pawpaw leaf, I crust and form a crystal that sucks on its SAP and harden as I grow. Until my crusts crack and reveal my changed form, no longer will I crawl. For now, I stretch and activate blood into my dead veins. And as my spotted wings come alive, I bat them and sprout out in all my glory and fly...
   The day isn't bright or fair, it's dim and dark and moist as if pregnant with minute dew drops trapped in the air.
I have been in the office since six, it's early I know but I have too much to do. The time is a minute to one and I need to go and pick up my shoes. It's the third this week and I'm loving it. Not my usual stilettos or boots but comfortable shoes, high enough to keep my toes away from the muddy Waters the pot holes In the road amasses. Raining Season in Lagos comes with its mess, the drainage spews onto our crazy roads and tiny bumps in our roads become gully erosion overnight. Stilettos won't cut it, that I am sure of.
 It's here again, and my friend has invited me for another party and she is turning fourth. I don't mind, but with all that rain, I doubt I will be able to go and get my shoes and make the party. My budget was five, since we would both split the Uber fee. I was a little happy she did not call and started to drive towards my shoes, to Ikoyi. And then I see her call and stop, I sigh, signal and start to turn my vehicle back to my house. An angry driver who was on the phone almost hit me and I scream at him and he gives me 'waka'. The all insult intended spread of all five fingers just after all tips touch in front of your hand, I wonder who started the wicked gesture. I reply him with another insult inducing gesture, pointing and spinning my index finger at my own head and then at him repeatedly. This I did until I finished reversing, he tried to hit me and I slam on my brakes and point at him, whispering.
'Hit me now, hit me'
 Other people behind me start to blare horns at me as we both refused to move. The security men at my gate slammed at his bonnet and stand in front of his car, as they shout that he should go back. He does reluctantly and I wave and thank them.
'Idiot', I tell the silly man and then recognize him.
'Why? Why did you not just wait?'
'i didn't know it was you'
 Other vehicles overtake us and I just shake my head.
 As if that is an excuse, just listen to this man ooo.
'You were on the phone'
'I agree...'
'...And insulted me'
'Please let me make it up to you'
'No need, greet my aunt for me when you see her'
 I wave and drive off.

   Nnoye was in front of my house and as I park, I take out my suede red boots and place them in a bag.
'you are red carpet ready'
'and your beaded purple dress and sky high heels will slay the red carpet'
 We hug and I ask, 'have you called the Uber?'
'Toyota Prado.... It's here'
 As we step in, the rains begin, they fall so hard that the temperature drops and I want to run back into my house.
'Lets just go', Nnoye pleads as she stops me from opening the door.
'Ajah will be flooded'
'its raining Season'
 The journey was quiet and angry rains slam at the car roof.
'What happened?'
'Nnoye, remember that fine guy my aunt introduced me to in my parents house'
'That says he will be married in six months, with or without you'
'Exactly, he almost hit me and then abused me and on top of that, he was making a call ooo'
'Just now'
'did he know it was you?'
'Not at first'
'And then?'
'He wanted to pretend to be all nice and all, I told him to greet his aunty... I mean my aunty'
 Nnoye laughed.
'I tire for the men in Lagos shaaa'
'So you won't marry him?'
'Are you asking me that question?'
'I want to marry'
'find your own man'
 I said it, is she not ashamed of herself.
'But you won't marry this one'
'You will marry him'
'Why not?
 Just as I was going to protest,an onslaught of water on the street we were going into made me hold on to the door handle.
'What is this?'
'Ajah, once it rains'
'and land here is mega expensive, this is ridiculous', I grumble.
All the while praying we won't get stranded and have to put our feet in the filthy water.
Then the car stops,I look around and realized we are there and have to place our feet in the water. My suede red boots would definitely get ruined and I was not happy at all. It was go home now, or step in it.as I did, I race to the so called red carpet and cannot read out the many names on the back drop banner. I just want my feet dry and my boots intact at the end of the day.
 The food was delicious, the make up bold and the dresses fashion forward. There were shift dresses and sheath dresses, many shin length and a few micro dresses and not one mermaid. I had on my shift bell shimmery sleeve peach dress with crochet body and a oversized turtle neck bishop collar outfit made my red boots pop.
I knew the birthday chick and we hug and dance a little as we recognized each other.
It was an evening to remember.   
 I stretched to get something and squealed, my voice muffled as I gather back my strength.
Can't they see that I am in pain?
 A sadness engulfs me, as I ponder on the last interview I gave this selfish world. Is that how I'm going to be remembered?

What ever is going on, I have to get up and fast.

**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 40**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede